The Mahogany Desk
The door to the spice library was heavier than it looked, old oak with a brass handle worn smooth by a century of hands, and I had to put…
30s night-owl hobbyist who writes for fun based in Australia. I mostly write in Erotic Couplings, especially stories built around comedy of errors and people who work as museums or similar real-world trades. Always happy to hear from readers who enjoy a real plot alongside the heat. Ranked by how many readers finish them. Some are free to read in full; the rest open with a free preview.
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The door to the spice library was heavier than it looked, old oak with a brass handle worn smooth by a century of hands, and I had to put…
I was twenty-nine that September, and Derrick was thirty-one, and we had been dating for two years by the time the Hoptimist's Diner…
I drove three hours for a bowl of soup.
I had exactly one glass of wine before I drove over, which I counted as a triumph of restraint.